


Thrall

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cock Cages, Dark, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Half-Sibling Incest, I'm Also Going To Hell, Inspired by Fanart, Nipple Clamps, Pegging, Sexual Slavery, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana takes Arthur to be her sex slave. Arthur should probably be a bit more unhappy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [La Belle Dame Sans Merci](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007709) by Anonymous. 



> Based on a delightfully kinky piece of art by a certain wonderful artist. They're completely to blame, is what I'm saying.
> 
> References to Merthur, Arwen, Morgwen, Mergana, Mergwen... Please do read the tags before proceeding.

There’s a golden collar around Arthur’s neck.

Two bracelets on his upper arms.

A thin chain clamped to his nipples, a ruby dangling down in the middle.

And a golden cage closed fast around his cock.

Well he can’t deny that Morgana has style. He’ll make sure he’s stylish in return when he finally gets a chance to wring her wicked neck.

He’s forced to his knees by her – _his_ , his! – throne; magic pushing him down into submission even as he tries to struggle. She clips a thick chain to his collar, tugs on it idly now and then as her guards report to her on the successful overthrow of Camelot.

Arthur tries to shout but she silences him with a click of her fingers, shoving the chain into his mouth for good measure. He can only wait, furious and humiliated, until the men are all dismissed and she finally deigns to address him.

“Well, well. Aren’t you a sight?”

Morgana pulls on the chain until he’s forced to crawl in front of the throne, her casually spread legs bracketing him on either side. 

He still can’t speak but he glares up at her.

“Don’t look so put out. You always did look good in red and gold, brother dear.”

He spits at her and she laughs.

His crown is nestled atop her head like it belongs there. Exile has sharpened her features but she’s still gloriously beautiful. Still obviously insane.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re not dead yet,” she says conversationally. “Oh, I did consider it. But then I thought of a better use for you.”

She reaches down to tug on the chain connecting his nipples, almost tenderly.

“Being Queen of Camelot is good. Being Queen of Camelot and keeping the old King as a sex slave? That’s better.”

She smiles at the horror in his eyes.

“Don’t you agree, darling?” she says. “Speak.”

His voice comes back to him.

“You’re fucking insane,” he says, trying to sound as imperious as he can. “Release me now.”

“No, I don’t think so. I rather like you like this,” she says musingly. “Just look at you.”

Arthur feels a pressure forcing his neck down, making him stare at his own gold adorned body. His cock looks as obscenely decorated as an ornate dagger sheath, and seeing it sends strangle prickles of heat through him.

“You’re made to be a pleasure slave, brother,” Morgana says silkily. “That golden hair, that sculpted body, those slutty red lips. You’re going to look so pretty kneeling by my side.”

“Never,” Arthur swears.

“Oh you’ll come around,” Morgana says. “Learn to accept your new place in life. I imagine you’ll take to your duties quite quickly.” 

She reaches out one elegant bare foot, and rests it on his bejewelled cock.

“I’ll keep you well-fucked and happy, don’t worry. And if I’m not around, I’m sure one of my men will step in to give you what you need.”

Arthur shudders, even as his cock begins to twitch a little under Morgana’s ministrations. 

“I’m your brother,” he says, disgusted.

Morgana sniggers.

“And yet you’ve been staring down my dress since I first moved to Camelot. Spying on me when I changed. Brushing up against me in the halls. It never bothered you before.”

“I never knew-”

“But then you found out. And you still didn’t stop looking at me, did you?”

There’s a challenge in Morgana’s stare that Arthur can’t answer. She presses her foot down and he can’t help but moan, very softly.

“Good boy,” she says. “I like my slaves responsive. Like to hear them beg.”

“I’ll kill you,” Arthur growls. “First chance I get, I’ll strangle you, I’ll cut your throat, I’ll-”

“You can try,” Morgana says easily. “But are you sure you want to make me angry? Knowing how many of your little friends I have down in the dungeons?”

He’d almost forgot, and panic rises in his throat.

“Where’s Gwen?” he says hoarsely. “Where’s Merlin?”

“I put them in a cell together,” Morgana says, moving her foot back and forth relentlessly. “So they can cuddle up for comfort, the poor kittens. Do you think they will, Arthur? Do you think they’ll take solace from each other in whatever way they can?”

She presses down with her toes and he groans again, involuntarily.

“They kissed once, did you know that? Gwen told me. Who knows what feelings might come alive again when they’re huddled close in the dark?”

Her voice is sickly sweet.

“I can imagine it now. Shy at first, then surer. Merlin mouthing at Gwen’s breasts, all puppyish and eager. Gwen guiding him down her body, moaning just loud enough for all the guards to hear…”

Arthur’s struck by an image so vivid he isn’t sure if Morgana’s magicked it into his mind: of Merlin’s dark head bobbing between Gwen’s spread legs, both of them bare and damp and panting…

He flinches and Morgana laughs.

“You don’t like that, do you?” she says, delighted. “Don’t like the idea of them doing things you can’t control. Because you think you own them, Arthur. You think they both belong to you, think they should come running when you click your fingers.”

Arthur shakes his head, trying to draw away from the merciless rhythm of Morgana’s foot against his cock.

“Don’t lie. You want to marry Gwen and make her your Queen. You want to fuck Merlin on the side. And you want them both to be happy with that! Grateful, even.”

Arthur wants to deny it outright but there’s a grain of truth buried in her words that he can’t quite ignore.

Morgana makes it sound so sordid, though. It isn’t like that. He loves them both, is that so terrible?

He glares up at her.

“What about you?” he says harshly. “You loved Gwen, don’t deny it. And Merlin too, once.”

He hopes to make her angry but she only smiles.

“But that’s my point exactly, dear brother. We’re the same, you and I. We’re not good like Gwen and Merlin, not kind, not _nice_. We want to own things. We want to possess, we want to keep, and we certainly don’t want to share.”

“I’m not like you,” Arthur says scathingly, though he sounds less sure than he’d like.

“Come now,” Morgana says, tone suddenly soft and intimate. “We’re Pendragons, through and through. Our blood is tyrant blood, warlord blood. We may know how to be diplomats, how to charm… but the core is ruthless.”

“You’re wrong,” Arthur says quickly. “I… I love Gwen and Merlin.”

“So do I,” Morgana says. “It doesn’t mean I’ll let them cross me.”

She caresses his cheek.

“Just like you, darling. I love you. But only when you’re in your place.”

“Fuck you,” Arthur spits.

“Yes, we’ll get to that,” Morgana says airily. “But right now I want you to think about those two little sweet things in the dungeon. About what you really want from them.”

“I don’t want any-”

“Oh, hush. I’m making you an offer here. Submit to me and maybe we can have two pretty pets to share between us.”

To his eternal shame, Arthur feels his cock harden in its binding.

“I would never-” 

“Is it so different to what you had planned?” Morgana interrupts. “You wanted Gwen in your bed every night, your faithful bride. You wanted Merlin in the stables every morning, or bent over the breakfast table. Well you can have them both now, and you don’t even have to hide. You can own them.”

She smiles, slow and easy.

“Just so long as you remember who owns you.”

“You don’t own me,” Arthur hisses.

Morgana’s response is to give a sharp tug on his nipple clamps; smirking as he lets out a little cry.

“I do. I always have. Ever since the day you first saw me. You’ve wanted me for so long…”

She stands and pulls him up with her, their faces so close now that they’re almost touching.

“Why not give in?”

Her breath ghosts across his face.

“You need me, Arthur. You’ll never be pure like them, never be innocent. They don’t see you for who you really are. But I do.”

Her lips are almost touching his now but he senses she’s waiting, waiting for him to close the gap between them.

“I see you, brother,” she whispers. “I see all of you.”

Time seems to slow down.

He kisses her.

It’s nothing like the sweetness of Gwen’s lips, or the tender way Merlin’s mouth yields to his. Morgana tastes like bitter sin; like rich wine and bonfire smoke and utter wickedness, _all wrong, she’s his sister, they can’t do this, they can’t_ …

But he’s already tearing at her dress, ripping it down the middle to expose her milk white breasts. She pushes his head down and he sucks desperately at her nipple; worrying it with his teeth as she grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs hard. The clamps on his own nipples are brushing up against her skin; he feels raw and over sensitised.

He feels her magic pushing him back to his knees, only this time he’s happy to go; he rucks up her skirts, unsurprised to find she’s bare underneath, and he presses himself against her and inhales for a second. Then he’s licking a long stripe across the parting of her cunt, fucking his tongue inside her until he can hear her moan above him. Her hands are still gripped tight in his hair, she pulls at him as he opens her up with his mouth, tastes her all over, desperation making his head spin.

“Wait,” she moans out. “Not like this.” And she tugs him to his feet again, hands fiddling with the cage around his cock until it falls to the floor and his cock springs gloriously free.

Arthur’s almost shaking with arousal, he finally gets to fuck her, after all these years, gets to bury himself inside her…

He’s preparing to hoist her in his arms, lay her on the floor, whatever, he doesn’t care; but she puts a restraining hand on his chest, magic holding him in place.

“Oh Arthur,” she murmurs. “You didn’t think you were going to top, did you?”

He doesn’t comprehend until she takes the harness down from the side of the throne, and he sees the smooth wooden cock attached, gleaming in the dim light.

“But-” he starts, mouth dry.

“Shhhh,” Morgana says. “You’ll enjoy this. I promise.”

And her magic releases him again.

He could run. He could shout. He could fight.

He bends over the throne instead and Morgana purrs with satisfaction.

“Such a good boy for me,” she says, and he watches in horror and fascination as she slips the harness on, produces a vial of oil and slicks it up.

He can’t tell if it’s magic or his own free will that has him spreading his legs, exposing himself to her.

“Look at your pretty pink hole,” she says softly, her finger tracing the rim. “My virgin little brother.”

He’s never let Merlin do this to him, always said it wasn’t fitting for a King. And Gwen would never dream of putting on the monstrosity currently jutting from Morgana’s body.

But Morgana’s right. They’re good and he isn’t. It’s taken his sister to awaken something like this in him, and he’s too far gone to stop now.

He barely whimpers when Morgana pushes two fingers inside him. She twists and crooks them until his hips begin to cant, and then she draws them out.

“I’d stretch you more,” she says. “But I really want you to feel this.”

Then her hands are on his hips, gripping tight, and he braces himself, cock hard and straining against the cold seat of his own throne.

When the wooden tip first nudges at his entrance, he feels the beginnings of panic, but his arousal doesn’t falter. It’s lucky because Morgana doesn’t coddle him, driving forward fast enough to bring tears to his eyes as she forces her way in.

It burns but it’s the right kind of burn; he needs this to hurt. Needs it to feel as wrong in his body as it does in his mind. So he pushes himself back onto her and it rewarded with a startled cry of pleasure.

She holds him down after that; makes him just lie there and take it. He relishes the ache; feels no surprise when the pain turns to pleasure. His cock is aching, leaking pre-cum freely as Morgana fucks into him. He stops trying to stay quiet; lets himself moan like a wanton whore, lets his sister hear exactly how much he’s enjoying this. He can feel her triumph as her thrusts quicken and he knows he should care, but it just feels too good…

She takes mercy on him eventually, when his cock is raw with being slammed against the hard throne. She slips her hand around him and jerks him to release. He comes like an explosion, white light in his eyes, and she fucks him all the way through it. 

He sinks to the floor after and she follows him down, ripping the cock harness off and turning him on his back. He knows what’s coming and obediently opens his mouth as she lowers herself to sit on his face. She directs him to her opening, tells him how to lick, then presses her own fingers to her clit and works herself to orgasm, rocking against his chin. 

He licks her clean after she comes, meek in submission. He feels like the fight’s been fucked out of him; he has no resistance left.

She gets to her feet then, surveys him from above.

“Like I said,” she drawls, fixing up her dress with a wave of her hand. “You were made to be a pleasure slave.”

Arthur can only pant from the floor, fucked out and spent. He doesn’t protest when she leans back over him, snaps on the cock cage with a smirk and dips her finger in the cum drying on his stomach.

“You’ll learn to finish on my cock alone, soon enough,” Morgana says triumphantly. “When I have you better trained.”

She pushes her finger into his mouth and he licks off his own spend.

“And Merlin?” he says, hating himself. “And Gwen?”

Morgana smiles.

“Soon, my love,” she promises. “Soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
